


A Fair Trade

by Qzil



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Cannibalism, F/M, Human Castiel, Season Nine AU, Skinning, Vaginal Fingering, bone removal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-15
Updated: 2015-02-15
Packaged: 2018-03-13 02:55:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,182
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3365081
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Qzil/pseuds/Qzil
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel wasn’t surprised to find that he did. Meg, being a demon and therefore born to bloodshed, seemed to know his violent side better than he did. The knife seemed to hum in his hands, almost as alive as his angel blade but not quite, and when he put his free hand on Meg’s back he could almost feel the blood rushing through her veins, could almost feel the heat of her organs begging to be exposed to the cool air.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Fair Trade

Castiel was never exactly sure how Meg talked him into things. 

She didn’t offer any explanation for her request, but simply handed him the knife he needed and left the room, her long hair brushing against her bare back. He stared after her for a moment, confused, before he followed. 

Whatever happened, he always followed her. 

He found Meg in the bedroom, sitting at the vanity and absently brushing her hair. She ignored him and kept looking out the window and into the yard below where the trees were blooming, the first blush of spring gripping the land and chasing away the winter. 

“It’s pretty here,” he said, taking the brush from her hands and putting the knife on the vanity. Meg let him and dropped her hands into her lap, eyes moving to watch him in the mirror. 

“It is.”

Cool air blew in through the open doors that lead to the veranda, and not for the first time Castiel wondered what Meg’s done with the home’s original owners. He didn’t ask her, though; grateful for the isolation the large house in the backcountry of Virginia gave them. He looked past the slightly-shabby yard and at the mountains around him, misty at the top, their strong forms offering protection to their small valley. 

He had to admit that it was a nice place. Safe, even, with all the wards he and Meg had put in place around the property. Of all Meg’s hideouts that he’d been too, it was the most well-maintained, too. He couldn’t imagine Meg doing the small things necessary to keep a house clean; changing sheets or dusting or mowing a lawn, and yet, aside from the grass beginning to grow and reclaim the yard, the house looked as though it was lived in and cared for, so he supposed it hadn’t been on her list of hiding spots long. 

“Some old couple,” she said, answering the unspoken question about who owned the house. “They used to have a maid come in twice a week and do the cleaning. Did you want to know what happened to them?”

He shook his head. It made sense that their current safehouse had belonged to an older couple, after all. He could see it in the decorating scheme. The walls were a light, soft color. Cream, he thought, or some sort of off-white. The furniture was old, but sturdy, and the bed in the middle of the room was low to the ground, easy to get in and out of, the covers a plain light brown. Downstairs was full of books and small figurines and had a sewing room, a large television the only evidence of the newest technologies that seemed to fill the homes that belonged to younger people. 

Meg picked up the knife and began playing with it, twirling it between her fingers to watch the way the sunlight danced over the metal. “Will you do it?”

“If you want me to,” he answered. “Is it safe?”

Meg nodded, causing her hair to slip away from him and fall down her back. “Safe for me. I’ll heal.”

Castiel gently moved her head and begins to run the brush through her hair again, parting it into two long chunks. “Alright. Let me put your hair up.”

Meg made a small noise of agreement and let him braid her hair and pin it to the top of her head, laughing at her own reflection. 

“I look like a milkmaid,” she told him, smiling at herself in the mirror, and Castiel felt himself smile, too. 

“Get on the bed,” he told her. Meg’s smile went from amused to predatory as she did. Castiel watched his demon settle on her stomach in the middle of the bed and swallowed hard before rooting through the drawers for lotion. 

“You know how to do this, right?” Meg asked as Castiel settled on the bed with her, bracing his thighs on either side of her buttocks. 

“In theory, yes.”

He frowned when Meg let out a sigh, half disappointment and half amusement. “Alright. Well, it isn’t that hard. You’ll probably wanna tie me down, though.”

“In a moment,” he said, warming some lotion on his hands before rubbing them over her shoulders. Meg moaned in pleasure and pressed her forehead against her crossed arms, pushing her back into his hands as he spread the lotion over her skin, moving down to just above the curve of her buttocks. He kneaded her back for a few minutes, working the lotion into the skin to make it looser and simply enjoying the feeling of Meg relaxing under him. 

After, he tied her hands and feet like she requested, leaving her legs almost closed. The bed creaked when Meg shifted on it, but she stilled when Castiel added sigil-covered cuffs as an extra precaution. For a moment he thought of moving the bed to draw a devil’s trap underneath it before discarding the idea, figuring the cuffs would be enough to restrain her until the finale of their evening. 

“Are you sure?” he asked when he climbed back into the bed, knife in hand. Meg nodded and turned her head to look at him over her shoulder, smiling all the while. 

“C’mon. I know you want to.”

Castiel wasn’t surprised to find that he _did._ Meg, being a demon and therefore born to bloodshed, seemed to know his violent side better than he did. The knife seemed to hum in his hands, almost as alive as his angel blade but not quite, and when he put his free hand on Meg’s back he could almost feel the blood rushing through her veins, could almost feel the heat of her organs begging to be exposed to the cool air. 

Calling up his vessel’s childhood memories of hunting and boy scouts and books, Castiel circled the knife around her skin, pressing the blade down hard enough for Meg to feel it but not quite hard enough to draw blood. His demon shivered under him in anticipation and the lotion on his hands made the knife slippery in his palm, adding to the illusion of life it seemed to be giving off. 

He traced her back with the knife twice before he was satisfied and dug the knife gently under her skin, following the pale white lines he left behind. Meg moaned in pain under him and stiffened, making his work easier as he automatically began to murmur soothing nonsense to her, his free hand braced on her shoulder to keep her steady. 

Blood immediately welled up from the shallow wounds in her back, dripping down her sides and staining the light-brown blanket under them an ugly rust color. He watched as Meg sank her teeth into the pillow under her to muffle her scream as he dug the point of the knife into the skin just under her neck and moved his free hand, covering it with blood as he twisted the knife in deeper and began to pull the skin away. 

His first attempt was clumsy, Meg’s skin falling away from his hand to land back in place with a soft, wet slap, causing his demon to let out a small yelp of surprise and pain. His second attempt was better, the skin coming away easily as he pulled it away from her body like wallpaper, his knife moving under it to cut the small strings of nerves and fat keeping it connected to the meat underneath. 

He could hear Meg’s heavy breathing and her long screams against the pillow as he worked, but they were all muffled, almost distant and unreal against the sharp smell of blood invading his nose and the sound of his own life pounding in his ears, rushing through his newly human body in response to the blood leaking from Meg’s. The cuffs groaned as she tugged at them, bracing her body against the pain shooting through it, and for a moment he was afraid that they would break before Meg relaxed and they eased back into place. 

The blood made everything slippery and sticky, the smell of it filling the room even with the open doors to the veranda bringing fresh, spring air into the house, and Castiel willingly sucked it into his lungs. It smelled like battlefields and hunts and thousands of years of fighting to do the Lord’s work on Earth. 

He stopped halfway down her back and used one hand to fold Meg’s slippery skin in half and pin it to her lower back. She squealed and jumped at the sensation, but Castiel ignored his demon and simply laid his other hand on the exposed meat under him. Fresh blood painted his hand and he could almost feel Meg’s pulse beating in his fingertips as she let out an inhuman scream when his fingers pressed roughly against her spine. 

He didn’t remind her that she’d asked him for it, that she’d strolled into the sitting room, naked, with a knife and asked him to peel the skin from her back and run his hands and teeth along her bones, asked him to lick her insides. He suspected some part of her enjoyed it, having another person dig into her skin and tear her apart with steel and nails and teeth, and thought that, despite her screams, if he reached between her legs right now she would be wetter than he’d ever made her. 

Castiel moved his hands from her and heard Meg sigh against the blankets before she turned to look at him again with her face flushed from arousal, confirming his suspicions. She arched an eyebrow at him, challenging, and he turned his attention back to her, working on the remaining skin with sure, swift strokes. 

Eventually he worked the pale skin free from her back with a wet sucking sound, the almost-white flesh marred by smears of blood and dangling bits of nerves and fat. Meg let out a long sigh at the feeling of her skin detaching. Castiel looked over the flap of skin to see her slump down against the stained blanket, eyes closed and body limp in contentment. 

Climbing off the bed, Castiel carefully walked around the carpet and laid the piece of Meg’s skin out on the floor for later. She would want to keep it, he knew, either for some demonic ritual or to make a present for him, and reminded himself to find a way to preserve it later, when he and Meg were finished. 

Meg let out a low groan of pain when he got back into the bed and straddled her buttocks. Castiel ran his fingers over the jagged lines left behind by his skinning in response. He was sure that Meg could have done a neater job of it, with less jagged edges and nicks into the surrounding skin and muscle, but he didn’t think it was a bad first attempt. 

“Are you sure you want me to continue?” he asked before doing anything else, bending his body over hers so his mouth was at her ear. He felt his demon shiver under him, sending a fresh wave of blood oozing from her back, and saw her smile.  

“We’re just getting to the best part,” she croaked. “For me, anyway. I’ll bet the best part for you is afterward.”

He grunted in agreement before moving to gently nuzzle at the blood-smeared skin at the back of her neck and gently he lowered his head to the exposed flesh, hot and pulsing just under his face. Castiel nosed his way down her spine, gently pressing against the almost-exposed bone to hear the gasps and small, pained sounds that slipped from her mouth. Farther down her back he could just see the white tops of her vertebrae poking through the flesh. 

Deciding where to start, he sunk his teeth into the tough, stringy flesh around it as Meg screamed at the feeling and started to thrash, doing his work for him as her the sigil-covered cuffs stopped her from leaving the bed. 

Her flesh tasted like any other human’s, he supposed, not actually having eaten anyone else for comparison. He knew that Meg had engaged in cannibalism once or twice over the centuries, though, and reminded himself to ask her later if humans tasted differently from one another or if they were all generally all the same. Even though he’d read  once that humans were supposed to taste like pork, he found he couldn’t even compare the taste of her flesh to another animal.  

Hot blood filled his mouth as he ate, bitter with just a hint of sulfur that was so unique to demons. Castiel drank it down, anyway, not caring about what demon flesh and demon blood might do to his vessel, only caring about getting more of Meg inside of him. 

He gnawed his way up her back along her spine, tearing at the flesh there as Meg made small noises of pain and pleasure and twisted under him, rubbing her thighs together and bucking up toward his mouth. He stopped once her spine was free, the bone blooming from her exposed flesh like a pale vine, and wiped his mouth on the back of his hand more out of habit than out of the actual desire to be clean. Sucking one finger into his mouth, he squinted down at her back, mentally reviewing the body’s nervous system as one hand danced down between her legs to find her wet and willing, Meg moaning at his touch. 

Feeling her unravel under him Castiel awkwardly bent himself down as far as he could and licked his way up her spine, his mouth brushing against the jagged flesh around it as he followed the curve of the bone. Meg’s moan of pleasure changed into a shriek of pain when she came around his fingers, Castiel sinking his teeth into the exposed vertebra just under her neck at the same time and wrenched his head to the side to dislodge the bone from its proper place. Meg jerked once and then fell limp, breathing hard against the pillow. 

Castiel moved his hands and danced his fingers down her spine, gripping a lower vertebra and yanking until it came free with a wet plop, pulling another scream from Meg. Her body involuntarily spasmed as he did and then went still against the blood-soaked blanket. 

Popping the small bone into his mouth, Castiel sucked the fluids free and gently teased the remaining scraps of meat from it before he spit it into his palm and gently placed it on the bedside table. If he took more than one he knew that Meg’s body would take longer to heal than they had time for, and while he would’ve liked to leave her immobile for as long as possible, it simply wasn’t an option. 

For now, at least. 

Instead, he contented himself with pressing his fingers into her spine at different places, watching as Meg gasped and floundered under his touch. After a moment her whole body went limp under him until not even her toes were twitching, and Castiel smiled. 

“Are you done?” Meg grunted. “Unless you wanna dig into my neck or ass, there’s not much left you can do. I can’t feel anything.”

He shushed her and leaned forward to gently lap at her spine, cleaning the bone until it was perfectly white under the harsh light of the room. His mouth burned frp, her blood and his jaw ached from chewing on the tough, stringy flesh of her back, but he felt full and perfectly content. 

Castiel gently stepped off the bed and shifted Meg so there was room for him, taking his time to run his hands along her exposed skin as he uncuffed her. Meg glared at him, eyes filled with black from the pain and her face wet with involuntary tears, and hissed through clenched teeth. 

“How long will it take you to heal?” he asked, settling next to her on the bed. 

Meg tried to shrug her shoulders, scowled when she couldn’t, and shook her head slightly instead. 

“I dunno. Two weeks, maybe three. I do have to regrow a whole bone and fix a whole spine.”

“You asked me to,” he pointed out. Meg laughed. 

“I did. And now you’ll have to take care of me for two weeks.”

Castiel felt his heart skip a beat and smiled. Moving closer, he snuggled up to Meg and gently placed her limp arm around him. She made a face at him but allowed it, anyway, letting Castiel put their faces close together so he could nuzzle at her neck. 

With Meg immobile, she could do nothing but allow him to cuddle her and feed her juice and food to keep her vessel’s blood up as she healed, would have to allow him to take care of her like she never had when she was at her full power. 

Castiel sat still for a moment longer before he wriggled out of the bed and moved for the closet and took down the bandages. Meg stayed silent as he bandaged her back and continued to move around the room, hanging up the skin he’d taken from her back to dry it and adjusting her so she was laying on her back. She glared at him when he cuddled back against her side, his head resting on her chest and his arm around her waist. 

“May I keep it?” he asked, reaching to grab the vertebra he’d ripped from her body. It wasn’t a piece of her, not really, but it was the closest thing he had. 

“If I can have something from you,” she said. 

Castiel nodded. “That sounds reasonable.”  
. 

It hurt, and it bled a lot more than he expected it to, but Meg’s smile was the only proof Castiel needed that he had done the right thing. 

Meg only nodded and slipped the new necklace over her head, looking down to see the tooth on the end settle between her breasts with her other charms. He smiled back at her and probed the now-empty spot in his mouth with his tongue before slipping his hand into his pocket to feel the bone he’d hidden there. 

A tooth was a small price to pay to have a piece of her to carry around with him when they were separated, after all. And it was only fair that she should have a piece of him, too, in case they were separated for an extended period of time, or one of them should die. 

“You know,” Meg said casually, fingering the leather of her necklace. “If you ever get your grace back, we could do it the other way.”

Castiel swallowed hard and felt his spine tingle at the idea of laying, helpless, at a demon’s mercy. Yet at the same time excitement shot through his blood at the fantasy, and not for the first time he mourned the fact that he was human. 

“Yes,” he said. “I’d like that very much.”


End file.
